What We Missed After
by We'reTheOnesWhoWrite
Summary: Ever watch a scene with Richonne or Grimes 2.0 that was so interesting that you couldn't wait to see the follow-up to it, but the follow-up never happened? Well, in this series of one shots, we give you a glimpse into what happened that we didn't see. These stories will stay within the canon realm, and tie in directly to the scene that proceeds it.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This 1st installment was written by RichonneLvr218. Please be sure to check out her other works on her FF page. **

**-We're The Ones Who Write**

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**Summary: The look Carl gave Michonne in Knots Untie and her reaction to it was so perfect, it begged to be further explored. If you ever wondered what happened as a follow-up to that scene, here you go.**

Michonne retreated to her bedroom, pressing her back to the locked door.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

_Oh, my God! _

She covered her face, muffling her groans of mortification. She'd faced a psychotic madman, deranged cannibals, and packs of walkers, but the quizzical blue-eyed gaze of the young man she loved liked a son is what brought her to her knees. His wordless appraisal shouting 'I know what you did!' so unbearable she wanted to crawl under the table. Getting dressed for this trip to Hilltop provided her a much-needed moment to cringe from the stunning events of the morning following her blissful surprises from last night.

In and of itself, waking up next to Rick wasn't unusual. They'd slept side by side countless times, just never naked in each other's arms or without Carl, Judith, or any number of their tight group nearby. But last night was different. Unexpected, but so perfect. Who knew a roll of spearmint-flavored mints would be the string to lift the shade blinding them to their feelings.

She cared deeply for Rick, and had for a long time. She knew she loved him, but how deeply and in what capacity became undeniable last night. He gave her those mints in consolation to the crate of toothpaste he had for her that had found its way to the bottom of a lake. He knew what that toothpaste and her dental hygiene meant to her, and it had meant enough to him to bring her those mints. He'd thought of her all day and gave her the closest thing to spearmint and baking soda toothpaste that he could find. Besides brave and strong, Rick was romantic and thoughtful. Those mints had been the best present, and had led to the greatest moment of her life.

Since losing the prison and finding each other on the road, their connection had deepened. Over the last six weeks, they had grown closer. Taking care of Carl after he'd been shot had strengthened their family unit.

Family unit.

Somehow, when she wasn't looking, they became a family. She, Rick, Carl, and Judith. And last night, when Rick passed her those mints and the innocent hand tap turned into intimate hand-holding and caressing… Michonne sighed, her heart quickening with the memory. Everything changed. Rick looked at her and all that mattered in that moment was the two of them and what they were feeling and had realized they'd always felt. Love.

They'd leaned into each other and shared their first kiss. Soft and tender at first, it quickly escalated into a hungry, passionate, all-consuming thirst for more. Everything came together. A physical need, an emotional yearning, and happiness. She had never felt so happy, so light and free in her life. Her best friend was her heart's truest desire. And Rick's smile, the brightness in his gorgeous baby blues, his glee, reflected everything she was feeling as he kissed her and loved her.

Awakening to a stranger calling Rick's name and them wielding their weapons in the nude was not how Michonne expected to greet the morning after a night of passionate love making. But it should have been a sign of what was to come.

Rick ordered the intruder, with a nickname of Jesus of all things, to wait outside the room. Michonne found it weirdly appropriate seeing 'Jesus' in the morning, as Rick had taken her to heaven several times during the night and earlier this morning. As they gathered their clothing strewn about the floor, Rick explained Paul Rovia, the guy he and Daryl had found, was why she didn't have her toothpaste. Thanks to this interruption, Rick was certain Paul would lose any need to use toothpaste again. He gave her a quick kiss and they left the bedroom to find a stunned-looking Carl on the landing and nearly a half dozen of their close friends racing up the stairs.

Michonne rubbed her forehead. Half an hour after leaving Rick's bedroom, she was still trying to process all that had transpired. It's not like Carl and their friends wouldn't have found out about them, but she didn't think they'd find out all at once the morning after, with her and Rick still getting dressed.

"Hey." Rick's hushed voice and a slight tap on the door moved Michonne from her spot. She let him in, checking the hall before closing them inside. Rick laughed. "I don't know why you're peeping around, everybody knows."

She buried her face in her hands, groaning.

"C'mon, you're not sorry about us, are you?" He pulled her hands away, kissing her neck. "As good as we were together last night. Mmm. And this mornin'. I know I'm not sorry."

"Neither am I, but being found out by Carl and all our friends the way we were..." Her cheeks burned. "I'm mortified."

"Yeah, I noticed, but don't be." He caressed her cheek. "They were gonna find out. That guy barging in and getting an eyeful of you is what I didn't like."

"He wasn't looking at me." Her gaze swept over Rick. He was so gorgeous and those bowlegs too sexy. "But I don't blame him."

"No way. He wasn't…"

"He didn't ogle, he wasn't lusting, but he looked. He wasn't just talking about our weapons cache when he said you were well equipped." She smiled. "It was a compliment."

Rick bristled. "To hell with that. The only compliment I care about when it comes to that weapon is yours. 'Cause that particular gun is only for you, always loaded and ready." He rubbed her shoulders. "Why are you in here?"

"It's my room."

"Nah. My room is your room. That's where you belong. My room, my bed, and my heart." He twined his fingers in her locs. Their gazes fixed. "We've already wasted too much time, and I'm not wasting more." He pulled her to him, kissing her possessively. His tongue sought hers, dragging it into his mouth, owning it like he had her body last night. Michonne settled into his ardent kiss, raking the curls at the base of his neck while his hands trailed to her bottom to squeeze and caress. If there was ever any doubt, last night proved Rick was an ass man. He backed her towards the bed, but Judith's cries stopped them steps from their destination. He groaned and kissed her once more. "We'll finish this later, after we bring your things to our room." She licked her tingling lips as her heart hammered in her chest. "I need to get Judith dressed and over to Gabriel. We'll head out in twenty." Unable to speak, she simply nodded as she walked him to the door. "I'll see you outside."

A smirking Carl stepped out of his room the second Rick closed himself inside Judith's. He didn't say a word, he just smiled as he bopped down the stairs. Michonne returned to her room, cringing. Wondering just how long this awkward feeling would last. It couldn't last. She had to face him.

Racing down the stairs, she caught up with Carl before he reached the door. She touched his shoulder and he turned. "Can we talk," she said, feeling her face blush from the big grin on his face.

"We don't have to, Michonne."

"No, I think…" His growing grin stopped her words. "Just say it."

"As long as we've known each other, today is the first time I've seen you blush. And, yes, I can tell," he said, his perceptive words making her blush more. "It's cute and funny. I like it."

"We had a talk last night, you and me."

"Uh-huh."

"You are very important to me, Carl, and I don't want…"

"What?"

"I don't want things to change." She sighed. "Are you okay with Rick and me?

"You think I wouldn't be?"

"I don't know. I know I don't want anything to come between you and me."

"Nothing can. Nothing ever would. What we talked about, I meant that. Michonne, you're the mother I never thought I'd have again. When you came to the prison, my mom had just died after having my baby sister. I was angry and sad, and you gave me space, but you didn't take my crap. You helped me through my grief. You were my friend, and then you became much more." Carl's broad grin returned. Michonne's stomach rippled with unease. "You and Dad." He laughed. "I'm not surprised."

Michonne blinked. "What?"

"C'mon, you two have been coupley for a long time."

"Coupley?"

"You know what I mean. Taking care of me and Judith, talking over things together, fighting side by side. You can make my dad do things no one else can. You made him look into Aaron's story when he found us at the barn and you knocked him out when he was pointing a gun at the community members. He listens to you, and you two listen to each other. Things were bad for him and Mom at the end. He tried but… They weren't getting along, and I know he felt guilty when she was gone. It's why he took her death so hard."

"Losing someone you love is hard, especially when there's strain. I know about that."

"You two have a lot in common, it's why this should've happened a long time ago. When I found that guy on the stairs, he said he was waiting for my mom and dad to get dressed." Michonne's eyes widened. "Yeah, I didn't know what he was talking about, but I found out quick. I could've gone without the visual of my shirtless dad walking out of his bedroom with you pulling down your clothes." He shuddered, adjusting the fresh bandaging over his left eye. "For the first time since being shot, I wished I was blind in both eyes."

Michonne rolled her eyes as Carl laughed. He was having too much fun at her expense.

"But, seriously, I'm happy you two are together. I know you really care about him."

"I do."

"When Jesus said he was waiting for my mom and dad to get dressed, he was totally right. You better now?"

"Much better, yes," Michonne answered. She now had to prepare herself to get the teasing glances from their friends on a long drive, but this really helped. "Thank you, Carl."

"That's nothing. I need to put the extra cans of gas in the RV."

"Yeah, I need to get changed."

Carl turned to her after opening the door. "Don't tell Dad what I said. I wanna make him squirm a little bit first."

"Can't imagine him squirming as much as I did, but go for it."

The End


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Ushering in chapter 2 is afilmmefatale. Please be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.**

**-We're The Ones Who Write**

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**Summary: Rick chose the safety of the group over Michonne's life. Though he changed his mind at the last minute, Michonne ultimately had to save herself. This scene explores how Rick would have apologized to Michonne and how she decided to trust him again.**

As Michonne approached the prison gates, the weariness hit her in waves. She was exhausted; not from the two-hour walk back to the prison or the earlier confrontation with Merle. Michonne was tired of being on her own, of having to constantly look over her shoulder and finding no one there to cover her back.

She recalled the first time she'd walked this path, bleeding out from a gunshot wound. This time around, her spirit, rather than her body, was in need of aid. And the prison was the only place she could find it, regardless of the fact that she'd been treated like a guest who'd overstayed her welcome. Whether the group wanted her back or not, they would have to face her.

_He_ would have to face her.

Slipping past a walker ripping into a hunk of flesh, she averted her gaze, not wanting to see herself in the eyes of its fresh meal. A sudden shiver crept up the back of her neck. She glanced back at the watch tower. It was empty, but she was sure there'd be a welcoming committee at the main gate.

As expected, someone awaited her arrival at the only entrance to the prison.

_Rick_. He stood alone at the open gate, holding a sniper rifle at his hip. She admonished herself for noticing the new jacket and how, in the fading light of the sun, the tan of the leather complemented the sparkling blue of his eyes.

This was not the time to be distracted by her growing affinity for Rick; the affinity she'd felt before he betrayed her. She'd felt a connection between the two of them, the beginnings of a friendship. But now…she had no clue what they were. Enemies?

The hurt had settled like a rock in her gut. She could've died in the hands of the Governor. If it weren't for Merle's unexpected mercy, she'd be dead - or worse. And Rick stood at the center of it all; he'd made the call to give her up.

Michonne crossed over the threshold of the gate, once again setting foot in the place she'd called home for the past twenty-three days. It was the longest time she'd stayed in one place since the camp.

Her eyes remained glued to Rick as he slammed the gate closed. He tended to the lock, silence swelling between them. The ability to speak suddenly escaped her. The lawyer who'd fight to win an argument within an inch of her life, was at a loss for words. The speech she'd been practicing on the journey back to the prison vanished from her mind in a puff of smoke.

She wanted to resent Rick; she wanted him to share in the pain he'd caused. But the depth of the pain in his eyes, when he finally did look at her, took her breath away. Guilt and relief met at the crinkle between his eyebrows. There was nothing either of them could say to express this discomfort between the two of them.

"Michonne!" she heard Carl squeak, as he darted past his father.

He slammed into her, knocking her off kilter. He wrapped his child arms around her, crushing her against him. She'd forgotten the ease with which children loved, even in this world of death and loss. She instinctively stroked his head, noting the difference between his straight strands and the springy curls of her son, relieved the memory was still with her. Andre was still with her, the thought making her feel less alone in the world.

"You're back," Carl said, his tiny voice choked with emotion.

"I'm back," she whispered, the shard of ice melting from her rigid heart.

"He sent you away."

"I'm back, that's all that matters."

He held fast to her, even as the other group members joined them. She took a breath. This was why she'd come back. She wanted to face them, to know how they really felt about this whole thing; how they really felt about her.

"It's good to see you again," Glenn said, his kind eyes welcoming and sincere. Maggie nodded at his side, giving her a small smile. They seemed genuinely happy to see her.

Carol bounced Judith gently in her arms, looking even more shocked than doe-eyed Beth. Hershel was the hardest to read, giving her nothing either way. Merle was right; she was as much an outsider as he was.

"Did Daryl find you?" Rick asked, propping the sniper rifle against the gate.

So, he _had_ sent Daryl after her. But why?

"He said not to come after him. He's going after Merle."

"You didn't kill Merle?" Carl asked, finally pulling away from her. The look in his eyes made her glad she had done just that.

"No. He let me go."

"Merle?" Carol asked, the shock evident in her voice. Was it that hard to believe that Merle was actually capable of doing the right thing or that he would show someone like Michonne mercy? There was something about the disbelief in Carol's eyes that made her uncomfortable.

"Yeah. He's got a conscience." Michonne was too tired to filter the contempt in her voice.

"And you chose to come back," Rick said.

"Where else would I go, Rick?" It took all of her patience not to lash out at him. Her anger was swallowed up in despair. Her eyes tingled and she took a deep breath, not wanting to give the group the spectacle of her tears.

"This is her home," Carl piped in. He already had a knack for coming to her rescue, even though he barely reached her shoulders. "She's one of us." If the glare he directed at Rick had been trained on her instead, the last of her courage would've wilted away.

But the last thing she wanted was to come between a father and his son. This…thing was between her and Rick. Michonne made a mental note to speak with Carl later; he needed his dad more than anyone in this world.

"You're too young to fully understand the situation," Carol said. "It was an impossible decision for your father to make. But he made the hard choice to protect his family. And if I were in his shoes, I would've done the same." Judith stirred in her arms, her sleep restless.

If Rick had been open about the Governor's deal, she wasn't sure she wouldn't have turned herself over voluntarily, if it meant protecting that little girl. But Carol could kiss her ass.

All eyes were on Rick. He turned to Carol. "If I had the choice to make again, I would've told the Governor to go fuck himself."

Michonne suppressed a smile - and a shiver - at the image of Rick doing just that.

Returning his attention to Michonne, he offered her the words she didn't know she needed to hear. "I made the wrong call. I let my fear of the future - of losing what we'd sacrificed so much to build - cloud my judgment. Without you, we would've lost so much more; we would've lost hope. We need you, Michonne. I'm sorry for making you believe otherwise. I don't deserve to even ask this of you, but please forgive me for risking your life like that."

The fracture that had pulsed with pain and guilt ever since she'd lost Andre seemed to set itself into place, finally in a position to heal. She'd made a call that had lead to the deaths of the two most important people in her life. She forgave Rick in order to forgive herself for her own mistakes. "Apology accepted. But don't be surprised if I return the favor some day." Michonne's threat lacked the malice to back it up.

Rick nodded, his blue eyes twinkling with relief.

"Rick made a tough choice and it was the wrong one," Hershel finally spoke up. "But we're all responsible for not protecting you. I apologize, we all do." Everyone but Carol nodded in agreement. "That said, what do we do about the Governor?"

"We kill him," Glenn said with tremendous weight. He was as ready as her to take out the trash once and for all.

Maggie laced her fingers with Glenn's. "I second that."

"I third it," Carl said.

Michonne had to smile at the boy's determination or she would surely cry. This wasn't the time for tears, not when these people were deciding to risk their lives by not turning her over. She wanted to thank them - to thank Rick - but she found it hard to speak around the knot in her throat.

"We'll talk logistics soon. Right now, Michonne needs to get settled in," Rick said, lightly placing his hand on the small of her back.

He led her all the way back to the cellblock, back to her private cell, back to the place she'd come to think of as home.

"Get some rest," he said, standing at the entrance of her private space. "Our chances of winning are non-existent without you."

If that was his way of saying he cared about her, she'd take it. "A quick nap and I'll be good-to-go."

Rick moved to leave but then stopped. Piercing her with those vulnerably blue eyes, he said, "I never thanked you."

"For what?" Michonne gulped, her heart refusing to budge from her throat.

"For saving Judith." He tilted his head in that way she was growing to love. "For saving me."

"You're…you're welcome," she replied, too flustered to hold his gaze for long.

Rick departed, leaving her to wonder at the real reason she'd returned.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This third installment is brought to you by SophiasOwn.**

**Please be sure to check out other other works on her FF page.**

-**We're The Ones Who Write**

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**_Alexandria presented safety and a promise of a better life for Rick and his group. Now that they had all the comforts of the old world, there was only one thing Rick needed in his new life. He finally found the courage to explore the bond he and Michonne formed during their time on the road, but would Michonne agree to his request?_**

**_This prompt is a re-do of how Rick and Michonne started living in the same house in Alexandria._**

The interviews with Deanna had concluded two days ago, yet the lingering question the ex congresswoman, and wanna be poker player posed to Rick had left him in a pensive mood. She said who he was in the old world mattered; it sounded almost convincing.

Protecting his family was all that mattered to Rick. Since entering those steel gates they'd been stripped of their guns, interviewed, given jobs and now they were being split up.

Rick decided it was imperative that he play it safe. He was realizing that more and more as the days blended into each other. Right now he was a man that needed to keep his family safe. Aaron had given them two houses to live in. An adjustment in itself, being close, but still in a disconcerting way, separated. For the first time in a very long time.

He'd shaved and showered, then to his surprise, Michonne offered to give him a haircut the day before, giving a nod to his life before. Rick might've looked different, but he didn't feel that way. The normal conveniences of the old world made him even more guarded than before. Despite his reservations he told Carol they could all sleep in their own homes tonight. Rick knew their split was inevitable, but it didn't mean he had to like it.

He was still reconciling the swift changes in his head, recalling his and Michonne's moonlight chat the night before and all the necessary precautions he'd made almost an impossible challenge. Michonne understood why he was playing it safe.

He saw the glow on her face, the sense of relief illuminating in her brown eyes every time he stole a glimpse at her. Michonne wanted this place for them. She felt safe in Alexandria. He needed to make sure that feeling lasted for her.

Rick needed to make sure Deanna understood they needed to keep their gates closed. He refused to let this place make them weak.

A man was walking his dog down the street while Rick mulled things over on the porch. To him normal had a scary look now. It was walking your dog on a crisp, sunny day, haircuts and showers and tall, steel gates. Michonne gushed about Carl going to school, and Judith having kids her age to play with, and everybody creating their own space.

It all added to Rick's dilemma. He may sound selfish, but he didn't want Michonne to have her own space. He'd grown accustomed to having her close. Almost like a right hand, a beacon of light when things around him grew dark. Their group felt like a functioning body. The rest of the lot were like limbs, but Carl, Judith and Michonne felt like an extension of his heart. They somehow contributed to the blood shooting through his veins. He didn't want to examine too closely why he'd included Michonne in the equation. They'd practically been inseparable during their time on the road. He'd defer to her with most things concerning his children. Her insights were invaluable, especially when it came to Carl.

If he was being honest, it would be better if they stuck together. She felt like the glue in his life anyways.

Still, he wasn't sure if he had the gall to ask her to stay. What would she say? Did he have the right to ask her not to carve out a life for herself in Alexandria? At least not without them?

Rick knew one thing, having Michonne close to him was fundamental to his peace of mind. There was no doubt about it.

Carl's and Judith's laughter rang out from inside. His baby girl was crawling on the hardwood floor. Not on the diseased dirt or some cold wet floor of a barn, she was playing on clean ground. The sight, although simply in its context, was grand in the aggregate of things. It took Rick's breath away. In a way he had Michonne to thank for that.

Maggie and Glenn had left half an hour ago, two small bags in hand. They were followed by Sasha, Noah and Tara. They were filtering out one by one. Michonne could be next, but not if Rick could help it.

Daryl joined him on the porch, taking up residence on the steps. Leaning his frame on the banister he tilted his back to Rick and asked, "What's bugging ya?"

Daryl wasn't much of a talker, he opted for observation instead of conversation in most situations, but he was always able to read Rick right the first time.

"Just thinkin' 'bout us splitting up."

"Yeah…" Was all Daryl said in return.

Funny, Rick was never concerned about Daryl's choice of abode. He knew where he would stay.

"Where's Michonne?" Daryl asked.

"Talkin' with Deanna." She informed Rick of her whereabouts after a late breakfast of oatmeal and her tasty coffee. She mentioned something about, if he was nice he'd bring her bag downstairs. Rick was too much of a coward to question what she meant. He saw her off with a nod. He'd pretty much been standing in the same spot on the porch ever since.

Daryl swept his hand in the air, "Figured she'd be here orchestratin' the move."

"You assume she won't be busy movin' herself?"

The stray way comment got Dayl's attention. "Yeah." He chewed the side of his cheek and jerked his shoulders, "Where else would she go?" Daryl didn't entertain any more thoughts on the matter.

Rick shrugged, not committing to anything that was about to leave his lips. "She should be able to live wherever she wants."

Daryl saw through his bluff. "You tell 'er that?"

"I plan to." When pigs fly and the dead stopped chomping on the living.

"Glad you think that'd work out for ya'." Daryl muttered under his breath.

"It's the kids I'm worried about." Rick blurted out. He saw the skepticism on his brother's face.

His kids were resilient. It was Rick who'd be going crazy with any kind of distance between him and Michonne.

"You don't play nice when she's not around. Just sayin'."

"You don't know what you're talking about." Rick threw back at Daryl.

"I know when she left to go searchin' for the governor you got a lot more agitated. People talked. Then when she came back you were a little more… approachable."

"I never liked it when either of y'all left." Rick responded, trying not to feel guilty for something he obviously had no control over. Watching Michonne leave on the horse he'd only recently taught her how to ride, with a few days worth of rations and her sheer will was dangerous.

It scared him much more than he let on. A myriad of things could've happened to her, and he wouldn't have been able to protect her.

He thanked God every time he heard that whistle at the gate.

Daryl scoffed, announcing his displeasure at Rick's nonchalance. "That was different and you know it."

Rick all but grunted.

"I never brought you back gifts from my road trips."

Daryl enjoyed seeing the flush of color creep on his friend's cheeks. He'd hit the nail on the head. Rick had no comeback for that shot of truth. He could sense Rick's hesitation in continuing his train of thought. He gathered how important something so simple was for the small town sheriff. He was a traditional guy, these were the things that mattered to him.

"Look, you four were on the road together, doin' everythin' like a family. Don't see why that's gotta change now just because we got some walls."

"What if that's not what she wants?" Maybe they'd just move in with her instead. The houses were large enough.

"There's only one way to know." Daryl said, yanking himself up with the railing. He threw his crossbow over his shoulder, and walked off like he had something better to do than listen to his buddy's quandary. "Ask." He threw over his shoulder.

By the time Rick returned from helping out with a minor construction issue at the south wall it was almost sunset. He walked into the house and found Maggie, Rosita, Carol and Sasha in the living room sorting through a large stack of clothes on the ground.

Michonne was nowhere in sight. His heart felt like it was on a treadmill at the highest speed. What if she'd left already? There was so much he didn't get to say.

"Where is she?" Rick asked, trying to swallow like a normal person.

"Don't look so stricken, she's in the kitchen," Carol answered, her tone as cool as a cucumber. The girls looked unconcerned. After everything they'd witnessed between Rick and Michonne in the barn there was no doubt they were the "mama" and "papa" of the group.

"Sorry ladies, but there's no milk," Michonne said, entering the living room, carrying a red serving tray from the kitchen with five cups of steaming coffee.

Her eyes connected with Rick who looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

"You okay?" she asked, divvying up the coffee cups.

"Uhh… yeah. I thought... where's the kids?" he managed to say.

"I just put Judy down for a nap. I told Carl he could go over to Ron's for an hour."

Rick nodded, his hand finding its way to his now short patch of curls.

"Umm, you think maybe I could talk to you outside? On the porch?"

He was already leading the way, not giving her much choice in the matter.

"Go see what your Fred Flintstone wants." Maggie teased. Michonne rolled her eyes at her before following Rick's trail. The girls were sharing a laugh at her expense.

Rick was leaning on the rails, his arms crossed over his chest waiting on her.

It gave Michonne a sense of unease.

"You decided on what house you're gonna be living in?" he asked not bothering for pleasantries. He was unable to hold her gaze. Rick's eyes drifted to the neatly lined up planks below his feet. He wondered where'd they get the material to build the porch.

The distraction was lame, but useful.

Michonne held back the smirk that was begging to be let out. If Rick was playing the long game she would more than play along.

"I think it's best I go with Noah and Tara. Is that alright?" Her tone was dry.

Internally she shivered at the thought of being away from Carl and Judith. And Rick. But she wasn't going to assume anything because they'd been joined at the hip on the road. She had a front row seat to Rick's evolution from farmer to mountain man, from reluctant leader to fierce commander, from accommodating to savage. She believed her calm disposition helped balance him out. It pleased her in unexpected ways finding more than one reason to stick close to the Grimes family. He had a clean face, and a clean house, but she would be lying if she said she didn't want to see how Rick would adapt to Alexandria now that they were thrusted back into something closely resembling civilization.

Rick nodded his head, then scratched his brow with his thumb. All the well crafted words he'd formed after his talk with Daryl had scattered in his brain.

"Nah, it's just the kids… Not sure what they'd do without you close by." Rick didn't want to use the kids as ammunition, but if Michonne needed convincing he would. He trusted her with his life and his kids' lives. He'd always depended on her excruciating honesty. He didn't know what he would do without her.

"They'll know where to find me if they need me." Michonne said, folding her arms and leaning on the porch, mimicking Rick's stance.

"That's the thing, there's no _if... _they do need you. Carl tells you things he won't tell me, and Judy… you're the only one who can get her down at night."

"It might take some time getting used to, but…"

Rick wanted to slapped himself, Michonne was so much more than a mother to his children. She'd become his confidante, his best friend, someone who willingly shared his burdens, not expecting him to always be the ones making decisions. She supported him even when she didn't. He hoped he was all that for her and more. Being on the road didn't provide them with much privacy, they'd build intimacy in front of an audience. Now that they had a chance to catch their breaths a curiosity was building inside Rick. He wanted to know what living with Michonne would be like. He wanted to observe her in her element without spectators.

He wanted that feeling for him. Selfish or not.

He found some much needed gusto, realizing the truth was all that mattered between them.

Turning to face her, Rick's blue eyes captured her deep brown ones; rich in color like the soil after a light rain, honesty bleeding between them.

"It isn't so much the kids, Michonne. It's me. I want you close. Not for the kids. Not to keep an eye on them when I'm not around. Carol and Maggie are good with them, they'd help out in a flash if I asked. I need you here for… me."

Michonne was expecting some roundabout way of Rick suggesting that it was best she stayed in what she already considered their house together. She was even expecting him to persuade her with Judith and Carl as some kind of reward. What she wasn't expecting was Rick to bare his soul to her on the beautiful front porch, in front of the fancy house he wanted to call their own. She certainly wasn't expecting the racing of her heart or the warm fuzzy feeling that began to swirl in her belly at the delight of it all.

"Are you asking me to live with you and the kids?" Her tone was light and soft.

"Yeah…" He was unsure if that was something she'd want, but he knew it was something he needed.

"Took you long enough to ask." She shook her head at him, a small smile breaking through her lips. "I'll get my bags." Michonne pivoted on her heels, assuming he did what she asked earlier. The moving of the bags was a tactic proffered by Maggie.

Rick was taken aback by her casualness. She wanted him to ask all along. He did the right thing. His hope catapulted when he considered she never had any intentions of leaving him.

"Never took them next door. They're upstairs. I gave you the room at the end of the hall. Closer to the bathroom. I know how much you love to spend time in there brushing your teeth."

Impressed that he had it all planned out, Michonne looked at him in silent wonder.

"Really now?" she said a few seconds later.

Rick wasn't bring presumptuous. He felt confident in the tight bond they had built even before walls were an option for their group. For a man who'd battle cannibals, getting the words out was a different feat altogether.

"Glad that's settled," he said, a certain boldness in his tone and an added pep in his step. Everything felt right.

"Gonna check on Abe. He's working with Tobin out back." Now that Rick's concerns were neutralized he wanted to be useful.

Michonne caught Rick's gaze before he jogged down the gray painted steps. "You better be home for dinner." She said it in that no nonsense way she had.

"I'll be here."

"Grab the boy on your way home." Michonne had her hand pressed against the Litchfield yellow door. Yellow was her favorite color, which was why Rick chose the house with the yellow front door. It was just another thing he'd learned about her on the road. He grinned at the possibility of all the new things he was going to find out about Michonne now that she'd agree to live with him.

Seeing her standing in _their_ doorway gave Rick pause. Michonne was an exquisitely beautiful woman.

"Will do." Rick responded with a grin, thinking that Carol was right. They did have a habit of sounding like they'd been married for ten years. Which, of course made him smile.

He glimpsed at the house so rich and tasteful in style. In his old life a house this remarkable seemed almost unattainable. Now that he had it he discovered it was mostly walls and a roof. It was home now, but Rick knew home would forever be with Michonne.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This next installment is brought to you by Siancore, she always brings her A game.**

**Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page. **

**-We're The Ones Who Write**

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**A Few More Days**

**Summary: After Rick and co handed the guns over to Jadis in preparation for war with the Saviors, Michonne promised him a few more days to themselves. This is what we missed.**

Day 1

Things were finally starting to look up, thought Rick as he and Michonne drove along the deserted, tree-lined highway. They had been out there often enough in the past few days that their surrounds were now quite familiar. Rick thought back to the moment they stumbled across those Saviors who were out having a leisurely game of golf like there was nothing better to do in their world. If those who would destroy and subjugate fellow humans could take some time out, so could Rick and Michonne.

They would return to the school and secure the rest of the supplies they had found. That was a huge win for them; it was something that made them feel like there was the possibility of them coming out on top. He supposed it warranted some kind of celebration. And they had time, he knew they did, time to do it right. Also, Michonne had promised him a few more days. A few more days of not having to worry about what was to come. A few more days where the two of them could relax. Where they could bask in the presence of the other; enjoy their company; relish in their lovemaking.

"Thank you for this," Rick said, as he glanced sideways at Michonne.

"You don't need to thank me, Rick," she replied. "The kids are safe; we've got the guns. Things are gonna work out. I know you needed this. I need this, too."

…..

By the time that Rick and Michonne had settled into their little haven, it was already dinner time. He had dusted down the makeshift dining area they had used before, and set it up as nicely as he could at the end of the world. The candles gave it a romantic feel, just like they had previously had. He smiled at his handiwork and thought how he could get used to it; how he could get used to returning to a world that afforded the occasional romantic getaway. The love of his life drew him from his musings as she held up two ready-to-eat meals.

"Chili and mac-and-cheese?" she asked with a smile. "There's one left, but you can have it."

"Nah," he said with a smile. "You have it; I know how much you liked the other one."

…..

After dinner was finished, they remained at the table chatting. Conversation was always easy with Michonne, Rick thought. Even though, to everyone else, it seemed like they were both very reserved and quiet, they really weren't, at least not with one another. Rick was somewhat of a storyteller, regaling her with anecdotes from his family life and upbringing; Michonne was an articulate, passionate, and inquisitive person who asked questions and had a wide range of knowledge. Just like everything with the pair of them, they brought out the best in each other. Even their silence was perfectly matched as it wafted about them for a fleeting moment.

"Did you ever come to carnivals or anything like this before everything happened?" Rick suddenly asked.

"When I was younger," Michonne replied. "Mostly when I'd visit my grandparents in rural Georgia during the summer. There was always something fun to see and do. Then when I was older, carnivals were always prime date destinations."

"Is that so?"

"Of course," said Michonne with a smile. "The thrill of going on rides where you could press up close to your date. Or the games you could play to win a stuffed animal for your date. Didn't you ever take a girl you thought was cute to a carnival?"

He looked to the roof and contemplated her question. He recalled what Shane had said about it not being right to talk about the people from their lives who were gone; his best friend was wrong about that. Talking about life before was not wrong; it was a way to know one another better. He desperately wanted to know everything about Michonne, and this time alone was giving them the opportunity open themselves up further.

"Once or twice," he supplied with a somewhat bashful grin. "When I was a pimple-faced kid I may have taken Tammy Cooper to the carnival; might have even won her a stuffed animal on account of my good aim."

"Wow," said a grinning Michonne. "Tammy Cooper sure was a lucky girl."

"I was the lucky one," Rick offered, in that way that hinted at self-deprecation. "It wasn't like the girls were lined up around the corner to date me."

Michonne found him to be so exceptionally adorable: The famous Rick Grimes, blushing in the soft candle light. She shook her head doubtfully and beamed at him.

"I find that _so_ hard to believe," she proffered as he let out a little chortle. "I mean, I'd line up for you."

His smile widened at her playful words.

"You are so far out of my league," he said. "You wouldn't've even looked twice at me back then."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well," she said, as leaned forward, bringing her lips closer to his. "I see you right now."

Day 2

The kisses Rick pressed to Michonne's neck and shoulder alternated between eager nipping and soft biting. Her head rested on his arm, and her back rested against his chest as they each lay on their side and he entered her from behind. His free arm was hooked under her leg to afford him better access while he thumbed her sensitive nub.

His strokes were deep and deft. He knew what her body liked; he knew how to bring her to the brink of her climax, and then slow his pace while teasing her and making it last because even though they had some time to spare, it was not infinite. And at that moment, he wanted to be enveloped by her; deep inside of her for as long as he could.

She was close to her peak once again, so he slowed his ministrations and peppered kisses over her hot, damp skin as he inched his length from between her folds. She felt so good, all warm and tight. It almost pained him to withdraw himself.

"Please, Rick," she whispered, as she turned her head to face him. They shared a messy kiss as he continued to strum her clit. She moaned into his mouth before saying, "I need you."

He kissed her lips and then kissed her neck as he took hold of his hardness and guided into her softness. He heard her curse as he filled her completely, biting down on her shoulder as he worked up an even pace. He could do this forever; the thought registered just as he hit her spot, causing her body to tremble. He held her closer, plunging himself deeper; thrusting harder. She called his name as she reached her climax, clenching her walls around him. He felt his own release ready to spill forth as he closed his eyes. When he finally came, Rick relished in the moment with Michonne as they laid together in the dimly lit room amidst whispered proclamations of love and promises.

Day 3

The back of the van was almost packed to capacity as Rick closed the door; Michonne cut down the pair of walkers that were lured by the slamming. She flicked her wrist, shaking the blood from her blade before Rick could even get his hatchet from where it fixed to his belt. Michonne placed her katana back in its sheath and gave him a smile.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get going."

Rick nodded and then they climbed into the van. She drove as he watched the passing scenery. They sped along the road in comfortable silence, each feeling the buoyancy of the past few days slowly, but surely dissipate. They were headed home to their responsibilities, and the impending war. After a small while, Rick turned to look at Michonne's profile. She was stunning, even now doing the most mundane of things, she still took his breath away.

"I wanted to thank you again for this," said Rick.

"And I want you to know that you don't have to always thank me for everything," Michonne replied.

"But I mean it, and I'm grateful," he offered sincerely. "I'm grateful to you for givin' me a little more time with you."

The way he said it was appreciative, yet somewhat lamenting. She knew what he meant. in their world, and they were on the verge of war. Nothing was promised. These few more days were about having this time together, because they each did not know what the future had in store for them. Maybe they had the rest of their lives together; maybe they only had a few more days.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Checking in for another go at this series is Richonnelvr218. Her commitment to keeping Richonne alive is strong.**

**Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.**

**-We're The Ones Who Write**

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**Summary: When Rick got out of the house and ran off with Michonne and Carl after encountering the Claimers, what happened? We saw them running and come upon the Terminus sign, but what happened in between? We saw their horrifying encounter with Claimers later in the season, but Rick had to tell Michonne and Carl about them, and in this offering, I share my thoughts on how that happened.**

**This is the scene we didn't see in Claimed.**

Rick urged Carl and Michonne to keep running, putting further distance between them and the yells coming from the house that had become their sanctuary after the fall of the prison. Ignoring the pain in his body from the battle royal with the Governor, he kept going. He'd had a couple of days to recover from his cracked ribs, battered face, and bullet that grazed his leg, but he couldn't imagine a length of time that would heal his crushed spirit if this gang of riled men got their hands on Michonne.

The way those men were talking. The way they treated each other. Rick shuddered. They lacked conscience. There was no telling what they would do to any of them, but especially Michonne.

"Okay, okay." After minutes of running, Michonne slowed her steps, clutching her knees. "What are we running from?" she asked, struggling for breath. "What happened?"

Carl leaned against a nearby oak, nodding. "Yeah, yeah," he said, huffing and puffing, his cheeks flushed from exhaustion and the slightly chilled fall air.

Rick looked over his shoulder. They'd long been out of the neighborhood and were now in the woods. "I think it's okay to stop now," he said through labored pants.

"Thank you." Carl slumped down the tree to the ground.

Michonne touched Rick's shoulder. "You're not a hundred percent," she said, leading him to the large tree where Carl sat. "You need to sit down."

"Maybe for a minute," he said, holding his aching side and dropping to the ground.

She sat beside him. "Drink," Michonne instructed, handing him one of the precious few bottles of water they had.

He refused the bottle. "We should save it."

"Rick, drink some water." She unscrewed the cap. "We need you to take care of yourself, and this run didn't help. You're wheezing. Drink!"

Telling her no was starting to become impossible, but this phrasing didn't even allow it as an option. He knew the running had her breathing heavy, but he suspected anger now had a hand in it, too. "Okay, but just a few sips." The barely cool water was like premium ice cold beer as it coated his dry throat. Rick sighed after one small swallow followed two more. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She recapped the bottle and returned it to her backpack. They sat in silence a couple of minutes, catching their breath. "So, what happened back there?" Michonne asked.

"Some men showed up a little while after you two left."

"Men?"

"Yeah. I had fallen asleep upstairs and woke up to these voices. Hearing them get closer, I rolled under the bed. A guy came in and flopped on top of it. Then another fella showed up and they started fighting over it."

Disbelief widened her eyes. "They fought each other over a bed?" Michonne said.

"I think they would've fought over anything. While one guy was being choked out, he saw me. Thankfully, the other guy wouldn't let him go, so he blacked out before he could rat me out. When the fight winner fell asleep, I got outta there, but not before killing one of his friends I found in the bathroom and letting him give them a surprise. They'd found him just as you and Carl were coming back."

"How many were there?"

"Five or six. I don't know." Rick remembered the reactions of the men after finding Michonne's shirt, and their talk of who would go first when she got back. Two had fought over a bed to the point one of them was left unconscious. There was no telling what they would do to each other over a woman who looked like Michonne. He was a gentleman, and had a hell of a time keeping his eyes off her backside. Watching her walk out of the kitchen this morning was like a shot of morphine to his aching body. She was hypnotizing, but she was more than just that. And those brutes wanted to… "I'm just glad you and Carl weren't there."

Thinking of what could've happened had Rick rattled. Michonne was pretty perceptive, and he didn't want her to see how much those men and their behavior got to him. He stood, needing a minute alone to collect himself.

"Are we leaving already?" she asked, standing.

He shook his head, being sure to keep his gaze straight ahead and not on her. "Just gonna take a look around. See if there are some berries or somethin'. You two rest up."

"Rick?"

"I won't be long," he said, walking deeper into the woods. Roughly a minute later, he heard the snap of twigs behind him. It wasn't a rustle, so he knew it wasn't walker, and Carl would've called out. He turned around. "You aren't resting, Michonne."

"I wanted to know what you aren't saying. What happened back at the house?"

"I told you."

"Most of it, yeah, but you aren't saying something." Her brown eyes held him. Curiosity and concern swirled in their depths, making Rick wonder how they could be so intense yet so soft at the same time. "What is it? Who are these men?"

"They aren't…" Rick sucked in a breath. "They weren't men. They're animals." He paused for a beat. "They found your shirt."

She blinked, shrugging. "My shirt?"

"You washed it and left it to dry," Rick said, just as her face hinted at realization. "That shirt told them a woman was at the house, and leaving it told them she was coming back. They were waiting for you. Deciding who was gonna - who was gonna go first when you got back with whomever. I couldn't let you and Carl near that house."

"And you didn't," she said, stepping closer. "We're here, okay? I'm fine, and Carl is fine. We're here and they're there."

"But they are everywhere, Michonne. What coulda happened today is just the beginning. At the prison we had walls and fences and it wasn't enough. We're out here. We need to be safe and careful."

"We will be, but you need to get well."

"I'm practically there."

"Practically?" she said, a raised eyebrow adding to the doubt he heard in her voice.

"The rest helped," he said, which wasn't a lie, "but we have to keep walking. See what we can see, what we can find to be safe, to stay safe, and put more distance between us and them. There's danger everywhere, but I will keep you and Carl protected. No matter what it takes."

"I know that, but you don't have to take on everything yourself, Rick. We defer to you, but you aren't alone." She touched his shoulder. "I told you, I'm done taking breaks. I will do anything for Carl. We're in this together."

"Together." Rick sighed. How he loved the sound of that word. In this moment, her touch on his shoulder was the only thing better.

He tried to remember exactly when it was that he became so dependent on Michonne and her counsel. He told her this morning that Carl needed her, but it wasn't just Carl. When he saw her through that peephole after hearing the unlikely knock on the door, it felt like Christmas. She was the best present ever. There was so much about her that he found fascinating. That had been the case since she stumbled up to the gates at the prison, surrounded by walkers, and carrying baby formula for Judith. He thought he'd dreamed her, but she was so very real.

After some initial mistrust, they'd found an understanding. Rick didn't make it easy. Her defiance annoyed him, especially because it was cloaked in unvarnished truth. Michonne spoke her mind from day one. Nobody stood toe-to-toe to him like she did, and she managed to do it with diminishing his role with his people.

Then, she struck a bond with Carl. They had something special, the two of them. Rick wanted in on something special with Michonne, too. In many ways, they already had that. There was a real connection between them, and sometimes he found himself wondering if she saw him as more than the leader and Carl's father.

Together.

Before the Governor rolled up on them, he'd tried to spend some time with her by offering to help her dispose of the walkers that had overrun the fences, but she had easily dismissed him. Maybe he was too cool in his approach, he wasn't the smoothest guy in the world, or maybe she wasn't interested. Though his heart wasn't in it and he invariably changed his mind, he was the one that agreed to trade her to the Governor. Michonne said she understood why, but understanding and wanting to get close to the person who did it was two different things. There was a bit of a drifter in her, she had to take off sometimes, and he always hated when she did. He liked knowing where she was and having her near. And it wasn't guilt from the torturous hours when he didn't know how she was when Merle had taken her, or fear she couldn't take care of herself, she was a badass who wielded her sword like it was an extension of her hand. He liked knowing where she was because he cared, and always wanted her okay.

Now, her running days were over. That news made him happy. And if he couldn't have more with Michonne than a partner in raising Carl, he would be grateful, because she would be there. Keeping her and Carl close and protected was his driving force. They were his family, his world in this world, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for them and their safety. Absolutely nothing.

Carl made his way over. "Everything all right?"

Michonne dropped her hand. "Yeah," she said. "Just wanted to be sure your dad was feeling okay."

"Are you, Dad?"

Rick nodded. "I'm fine. Feeling better every minute." He cupped Carl's cheek. "You ready to keep going?"

"Yep."

Rick turned to Michonne. "You?"

"I am if you are," she said.

"Okay. Let's move."

They continued through the woods, winding up on a road running alongside train tracks. There, they spotted a sign and map on a railroad car that spoke of a place of community and sanctuary. In need of both, they made the decision together. They were headed to Terminus.


	6. Chapter 6

**This next chapter is was written by Nyese3529. We were able to coax her out of hibernation to bless up with a chapter. As usual she brought her A Game. Please enjoy our latest offering.**

**-Were The Ones Who Write. **

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Summary: Hi fandom. Surprise! When I watched episode 09x03, I thought that the whole setting was perfection. The way he looked at her. The flick of the pen. How much they both just truly love each other as they want to build a future. Here's my interpretation of what happened after. Thank you so much for reading, and as always please enjoy!

There was nothing more comforting than the notion of the future. A future...an undetermined story waiting to be recorded; a longing for normalcy; for routine; for happiness. It was all Rick ever wanted.

And as they collapsed backward and he looked into her hazy brown eyes, he knew he wanted his future to continue with Michonne. "There is something...about you," he said as they continued to hold hands. She continued to straddle him, her locs creating a gentle barrier between their faces and the sun. He moved a few of them to the side, his eyes smiling at the serene sight before him.

Michonne lifted their hands and kissed Rick's ...a simple small peck. "And what is that something?"

A lone finger escaped their embrace and stroked her lips before he spoke. "There is always a fog... inside my brain...and you're the breath of air that moves it away." Rick lifted his head slightly to meet those welcoming lips.

She sighed as he stared up at her. "And you are my true north...leading me to where I need to be…keeping me on the right path. The leader for us to follow." Oh, how she needed this man; her left hand; her stability.

Times were such that a person's sanity could wane due to all of this death. Through the endless violence plagued them periodically, life became as precious as gold…and people began doing whatever the unimaginable to attain it. Survival turned many cold. In this new world they lived in, surviving meant keeping any chance of love from withering away before you.

And yet, Rick kept her whole, centering this world that crumbled faster than the day could start over again. She wanted to tell him that...to let him know and be aware of her endless love for him, because death regularly knocked regularly around here. She wanted so badly for the world to give them life...for them to bring new life into it.

With one swift motion, he turned them over, eliciting a throaty chuckle to escape Michonne's pillowy lips. Rick's finger skimmed delicately across her cheek. The natural light of the sun blanketed her, the brown of her eyes glistening in its rays. She was such a sight for his weary eyes.

His hand slid under her shirt, against the soft tank top, barely clinging to the shape of her breasts. Her nipples hardened when he traced one just slightly with his thumb, licking the other in turn. Rick's fingers splayed over her stomach, crossing the button and zipper of her pants.

He didn't undo them. No. Not then. Instead, he reached between her thighs to that warm spot, massaging her clit through the rough material. Instinct had Michonne lift upwards, her body arching, wanting further sensations.

A firmer touch. A soft one. Gentle. Forced.

She cared less either way. The thought of his rough hands against her burning flesh ran a shiver through Michonne that escaped through the tips of her toes. She throbbed for him, clutching fistfuls of his shirt as his hand pressed harder against her most sensitive spot.

"Lay back," he whispered against her lips.

"I want you," she rasped, grasping the back of his neck. He remained strong, not giving in to her wants and lifted away from her glossy mouth. Through the stark silence, you could hear Michonne's zipper as he moved it down, slipping his fingers across her swollen bud.

"Lay back," he insisted, his eyes never leaving hers.

Excited, the tease of his touch made her comply. Michonne settled against their pillows, soft sounds of ecstasy already echoing the small space. He pulled her pants down expertly, settling them around her knees. His lips sucked at her lips, then licked… the heat from his breath just there on her skin. A steamy concoction of lust and desire, the air instantly cooled between them when he'd stopped he had to take her in once more.

Something inside his deepest thoughts told him to remember every inch of her. Remember the flecks of light sparkling in her chestnut eyes. Remember the softest skin he'd wanted to slide against. The feel of her hair against his fingertips and the way she gasped from his slightest touch.

She loved him. Of the many things that plagued him in these last few months, he was assured of their love. The one thing she told him to never doubt, and he knew he never would.

He caressed her until she purred his name, wasting no time parting her folds to massage the slick spot, rubbing it expertly in delicate circles. Warm. His fingers moved closer to her center, and he swallowed hard when he felt her sticky wetness. Michonne's rocked against his fingertips...matching his sinful rhythm.

Her fingers splayed through his hair, streaks of grey highlighting the once dark tone. "I want...you...in me," she husked out in small breaths. He kissed her neck, his fingers never leaving that sensitive skin that pulsed between her legs. She began closing her eyes, soaking in the delicious feeling.

"Look at me," he urged against her mouth and she did, their eyes talking now that moans only escaped from her parted lips. He brushed those lips with his own. Slow. Oh, so slowly he kissed her, while his fingers moved faster. It was so simple, his kiss, but it caused her to ache...to tremble, to writhe nonetheless.

She grabbed his arm with her free hand, attempting to steady herself under his embrace. The sensual swirl of his finger against her clit had her hungering for more of him. "We...can't make a baby...with you just doing...this."

The statement was pure and honest, and Rick knew that, but wouldn't oblige. He looked at her again, gently pushing her back completely now.

His fingers stopped their caress and moved ever so gently into her, slipping into a heated creaminess that caused him to smile down at her. "Well…" he suckled her skin, "...I figure we got time." Steam sat between the two and he welcomed her breathy response. The soft purrs. The gasps. The grasping of his shortened hair between her fingers.

"But...I..." she attempt to plea, but his fingers moving deeper inside made Michonnes head tilt backward. He kissed her there against her exposed throat as she groaned, "...I love you."

"I love you, too." His eyes never left her own, and when she pressed those lids shut, he watched her squirm and moan; licked her lips and gaze back up at him; clutched him tighter. Shut her eyes. She rocked against him. She desired him.

"Look at me," he said again when he knew she would cum. Rick grinned pressing his hardness against her, wanting her just as bad, but he wanted to remember her.

Remember every flutter of her eyelashes; remember her heavy pants; just remember her.

She dug into his arms as she held on, readying herself for bliss. Michonne caught her breath, unable to stop herself from the rising of her climax. She cried out, tossing her head to the side and he kissed her neck, his fingers still caressing her. She squeezed her thighs together, attempting to stop his sensual assault, but he wouldn't until he got her to shake…

…one last time.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The sun moved its brilliance away from the bed and a shadow covered them as the day began to tick away. They lay facing each other, breathing in the same air in harmony only two soulmates could match.

He mused the possibility of her being pregnant at some point. "You think we're too old?"

"I'm not," Michonne quickly quipped with a laugh. "I'm not the one with all that grey hair."

Rick joined in mirth with her, slicking his hand over his tresses. "I know... I'm a grandpa."

"No, we're not too old." Michonne's mind spun at the idea. She doubted after merely that one time that she'd get pregnant. But the thought...just the thought that they could be excited her.

"Say it happens and...just for fun...boy or girl?" Michonne looked over at Rick who turned serious, then smiled.

He pondered for a bit, a tug of a smile stretching his lips. "A boy. Figure that's the only way it'll ever make sense. He'll be a little of Andre and a little of Carl. Kind of right the wrong the world's done to us. I'd want him to be his own man and know he had some awesome brothers. But I'd love a girl just the same."

Michonne choked up. The memories of her two sons never escaped her. Never. "I love you."

"I'll always love you. I want you to remember that. Through all the good and the bad," he said drawing out his words. "...it'll be forever...my love for you.

Michonne leaned forward and kissed him on his forehead. Rick grabbed her before she pulled away and found her lips. Moments from earlier cascaded over him and he looked at his watch. "I got about...an hour before I gotta get back to the bridge. Let's keep increasing our chances."

He flicked the covers off of her and she giggled as he kissed down the length of her body. She would take all the time the world would give them.

Any and all of it.


End file.
